Trigger Happy
by BipolarMolar
Summary: Brendan Brady is good with a gun. Bralker slash. Brendan Brady and Simon Walker. Read and review...or forever hold your peace.
1. This Isn't Fight Club

**Title: Trigger Happy**

**Author: BipolarMolar**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**Summary: Brendan Brady is good with a gun.**

**This was inspired by the scene where Brendan showed Walker his stolen gun. Hands up if you paused the TV at that part, just to see the flash of Brendan's stomach and chest! Lololol…**

**Well, I'm thinking about branching out to write for other, larger fandoms instead, so I'm trying to finish all the incomplete work I've got up here. But…enjoy. And don't forget to let me know if you liked it. I don't know the first thing about guns or how they're built, so I apologise if there are any errors. Also, this isn't beta'd so all mistakes are mine.**

The moment Brendan had hitched up the hem of his black T-shirt, to reveal the nestled against his stomach, Simon's heart had thudded in his ribcage. Perhaps it was the sight of Brendan's muscular chest, ring and falling with each breath, close enough to touch, that did it. Or maybe it was the way his chest hair, spread across his front, deepened and darkened into an inviting pathway down his body to where the waistband clung to his middle. Certainly, the shiny brown leather of his belt, casually looped around his waist like a ribbon on a present added to his sex appeal. The sight of the gleaming black metal, hard against his firm flesh, casual with a hint of danger made Simon lick his lips, uncomfortably aroused.

And now, here they were, in Chez Chez, and the tension ran thick in the air like seething snakes. Walker was seated on the black leather sofa, watching Brendan pace around the room, his shoes slapping at the ground. When Brendan approached him, Walker swallowed, trying desperately to keep his eyes on Brendan's penetrating gaze because that bump under his top, where the dark metal rested, was making Walker have some rather filthy thoughts.

"What is it?" Brendan said in a monotone, his blank. He clearly wasn't in the mood for games.

"I didn't say anything," Walker said smoothly, inwardly panicking. His palms were beginning to sweat- had he been looking at Brendan too long? Had Brendan noticed?

"You've been staring at me for-" Brendan's hand dipped into his jeans pocket, retrieving his mobile phone. The light briefly illuminated his face as he checked the time. "-just over an hour. So Simon…care to tell me what's happened?"

Walker tapped his fingers on the leather restlessly. "Just surprised, you seem…accustomed to handling a gun, is all."

Brendan nodded at that, so, feeling braver, Walker persisted. "Are you sure you should just have it tucked in your trousers like that? What if it goes off...it'll be Bang, Bang, Bye-Bye Brendan."

Brendan's lips curled, his hand went to his side and seeing those long fingers wrap around the weapon, the soft cotton of his shirt lovingly tight against the gun like a second skin, and Walker crossed his legs, feeling his cock twitch. "What's wrong, Simon? Scared the bad man's gonna do something stupid with his big gun? " He retrieved the metal item from his waistband, testing the weight in his hand like he was born to handle guns. Walker flinched, the loud click ominous as Brendan took the safety off. The dark-haired man suddenly straightened out his arm, pointing the gun directly at Simon Walker. Staring into the barrel of the gun, the dark tunnel like an indifferent eye, Walker slowly brought up his hands, palms forward in a calming gesture.

"Don't…"

"No worries, I wouldn't waste a bullet on you." Brendan sniffed, stowing the pistol away in his waistband. Walker breathed again. "Besides, you do have your uses, I suppose."

Suddenly, Brendan seemed much too close, his face inches from Walker's as he leant down, close enough to kiss him. Or shoot a bullet through his temple. "Do you wanna _touch_ it?" Brendan purred, his eyes gleaming at the prospect.

"What?" Walker yelped, moving back into the leather sofa, with nowhere to go. Brendan slowly smiled, and the widening of his lips entrance Walker. Simon found himself following the movements of Brendan's lips with his eyes, making it hard to focus on the words.

"The gun, Walker. Do you want to touch the gun?"

It was a bizarre request but exactly what Walker wanted. "Yes," he breathed. "Please."

Without a word, Brendan shifted his stance so his legs were spread, leaning over Walker with his hands on the back of the sofa. Walker ducked his head to avoid the swinging crucifix necklace and tapped the space where the T-shirt bulged. Brendan didn't stop him so he lifted up the material to spy the gun, as black as an exotic spider and just as dangerous. With his trigger finger, he stroked the handle slowly in an upward motion, first once, then two times.

Brendan's breathing sounded heavy in the dim bar. Brendan batted Walker's hand away, removing the gun again. Walker watched as he carefully put the safety back on. There was a short pause, a hesitation, and then Brendan pointed the item squarely at Walker's face. Walker closed his eyes, bracing himself for- he didn't know what. But all he felt was the faintest touch of cold metal on his cheek, as Brendan lightly ran the gun over his face. Along his cheekbones, under his jaw (the barrel scraping the rougher skin there), then up to cheekily tap him on the nose. Walker opened his eyes, confused at the gentleness. A gun was a dangerous thing, even with the safety catch on; he didn't much fancy being pistol-whipped or accidentally shot. Brendan's eyes were dark, heavy-lidded as he shunted the gun against Walker's lips in a slow, lazy fashion. Feeling the metal brush his lips, Walker obediently let his lips fall open.

"Kiss it." If Brendan hadn't been right next to him, he wouldn't have heard him. Without thinking, he pouted, pressing a long, close-lipped kiss to the weapon.

"Lick it." Again, he obeyed, first licking his lips so that they'd part easier, then slowly running a languid tongue down it, leaving a long, wet line of saliva down the metal. He made sure to keep his eyes on Brendan's as he licked. The thought that this object t had been in Brendan's trousers, rubbing against his waist and hip made him give the pistol an extra-hard _lick_.

Brendan seemed affected by Walker's attentions to the gun; he was clearly trying not to pant as his face flushed with arousal. His eyes held a challenging glare, daring Walker to comment on the fact that Brendan's trousers were now tight against his obvious erection, his crotch so close to Walker's face as he stood over the seated man. Brendan straightened up, holding the gun at waist level with both hands, barrel pointing at Walker. "Suck the gun, Simon." He growled, voice rough. "Take it in your mouth; pretend it's my cock, Simon."

If the tension hadn't been so heavy, like a panting panther pacing the room, and the arousal hadn't been so potent like a miasma, a swirling cocktail of need, desirer ad wanton confusion, Walker would have questioned the order. But he didn't. He licked his lips, them parted them trustingly. He thought it might be easier if he closed his eyes, so his last view was of Brendan's crotch, near eye-level and the barrel of the gun, a little lower. He felt the blunt hardness bumping against his lips, so he opened his mouth wide, allowing Barmen to push the barrel in. The moment the barrel was in his mouth, icy cold on his tongue; his eyes flew open as the gravity of the situation hit him. This was stupid. Idiotic. What if the safety catch faltered, or Brendan made a mistake? He had the damned thing in his mouth for goodness sake!

"Mmgh…" he tried to speak around the gun, only managing an incomprehensible mumble.

"Hm?" Brendan cocked his head, yanking the gun from Walker's mouth. Walker winced as the weapon was ripped from his lips. "Take the bullets out first. " He muttered, eyes falling shut in relief, hearing the tinkle of bullets raining on the floor.

"Good idea. It was getting a bit like Fight Club there." Brendan drawled, making Walker snigger. His laughter was cut short as the now-safe gun was rammed into his mouth again. Unsure on what to do, he brought up both hands to hold the barrel steady as he licked it. He could see Brendan's hands tighten on the handle; feel the whole thing shake in Brendan's grasp. Walker smiled around the gun, knowing that he was deeply affecting Brendan. Better give him a show then. He licked and sucked at the metal like he wanted nothing more than the pistol deep in his mouth. He mad his eyes widen, meeting Brendan's desperate gaze, as he blew the item that was now shaking in Brendan's sweating hands. Walker withdrew hurriedly; the shaking of the gun could make him chip a tooth- he wasn't going to take chances.

With a growl of frustration, Brendan wiped the damp gun on the rough denim of Walker's jeans.

"_Tease_. " He hissed, a glint in his eyes.

**Author's Notes: Probably going to be one more after this, with full-on slash. If there's something you'd really like to see in the next chapter, let me know in a pm or review.**


	2. Slash Ensues

**Title: Trigger Happy**

**Author: BipolarMolar**

**Disclaimer: I haven't yet accumulated enough coffers to purchase Hollyoaks, so I don't own it.**

**Might seem a bit OOC. Or not. **

**This scene was actually inspired by a scene in the Simpsons where the teacher was giving Bart detentions and Bart got more and more cocky about how many detentions he could do.i hope you like what I wrote. **

"Think I'm a cocktease, eh? Think I'm… playing?" Walker smirked, feeling very much in control at that moment. He reached up, flicking Brendan's necklace in an attempt to be facetious. "I expect I'm confusing you, getting you all _h_o_t and bothered_," Brendan didn't reply to this, although he unconsciously tilted his hips a fraction more towards Walker's mouth.

"You saw me sucking off your gun and now you're thinking 'Hey why can't that be my _dick_, instead of an unresponsive _gun_?"

"You're teasing me," Brendan said shortly, his eyes narrowing. "Nobody makes fun of me."

"I'll admit it," Walker grinned, leaning back nonchalantly. "You're not exactly a figure of fun, but I've gotta say-" he huffed out a noisy breath, in a deliberate act to annoy. "I'm having fun at your expense, I'm enjoying myself."

"You've enjoyed yourself long enough," Brendan braked, throwing the gun to the ground, where it clattered on the floor. He began to unzip his flies. "It's time for _me_ to enjoy _you_."

Walker watched Brendan pull his erection free from his open trousers; he could feel his grin fading fast. The next thing he knew, Brendan was forcing his cock into Walker's mouth, until the man's lips were stretched around the hard appendage. It felt good, Walker realised with a shock, the heavy musk of Brendan's arousal so strong, the taste of him on Walker's tongue. He could visualise sucking on Brendan's cock, the huge length hitting the back of his throat. He'd love that. Hearing Brendan's helpless moans as he was licked and sucked to orgasm. Oh, he could try to take control, guide Walker's head or fuck into his mouth but Walker himself would hold the power, tongue and teeth and throat ready to receive Brendan's cock, his cum. But he _couldn't_, Walker acknowledged, a little ruefully. He'd once heard the phrase "The thrill is in the chase, never in the capture" and perhaps it was right. It couldn't end here- all their banter and face-offs , ending in him bringing Brendan to the peak but remaining unfulfilled himself. He just couldn't do it. He needed to know that Brendan wanted _him_, wasn't just trying to get off with a convenient body. He wanted Brendan's anger, frustration, possession and arousal. Not to mention the fact that antagonising Brendan was just so damn _fun_.

So he didn't suck, lick. He let his mouth go slack, lips parted wide. Brendan's body buzzed with frustration, from his restless hands on either side of Walker's face, clasping his head as if to urge him on, to his cock, thrusting uselessly into Walker's relaxed mouth.

"You're trying my patience, Simon." Brendan said exasperatedly, when Walker's hands clamped down on Brendan's hips, to stop their movement.

Mouth full of cock, Walker couldn't manage a retort, but his mischievous wink said it all. With an angry huff, Brendan pulled his dick from Walker's lips, the hard, reddened length now shining with saliva. Brendan tucked himself back into his trousers, not seeming resigned in the gesture, if anything, all the more determined to what he wanted.

"Sorry," Walker smiled, his eyes twinkling. "I guess I just prefer to give _lead_ than give _head_."

Brendan sighed, running a hand over his face. "You know, Simon, you're not too old for a spanking. If you're going to keep giving me lip, I'm going to have to bend you over my knee."

"I'd like to see that-" Walker started.

"Right, that's it," Brendan said, speaking over him. You give me no choice. You'll get two smacks and then you can think about what you've done."

"Two smacks- huh, I'm scared!" Walker laughed, eyes sparkling. Brendan scowled.

"Fine- three."

"Mmm, big man, I'm shaking in my shoes…" Walker said with a pretend yawn.

"Five."

"Ok." Walker said meekly, seeming to realise Brendan was actually serious.

Brendan sat down next to Walker, his arms by his sides and his legs slightly spread. Feeling the heat of Brendan's thigh, pressed close against his, Walker felt a surge of desire. "Stand up." Brendan said.

Walker raised an eyebrow but complied, standing up and facing Brendan so their positions were reversed.

"You're a bad boy, Simon." Brendan said quietly, his voice dangerously soft. "And you know what happens to bad boys?"

"They end up working for _you_?" Walker said flippantly, looking back at Brendan. Brendan didn't reply to this, his face oddly calm.

"Pull down your trousers and underwear, Simon." Brendan instructed, his voice even. Somewhat nervously, Walker did so, easing the material down his legs so the waistband was just below his knees.

"Bend over my knee." Brendan said, again in that impassive voice. His heart beating frantically, from nerves and arousal, Walker did so; the man's spread legs supporting his weight. He looked down at the floor, waiting, just waiting. This was the worst part- the anticipation. He gasped when he felt Brendan's warm palm caressing his back, moving in smooth, circular motions. "Quiet," Brendan ordered, so Walker settled down again. It felt nice, he thought contentedly, the almost hypnotic sensation of that easy movement warming his skin, it was actually quite relaxi-

"Uh!" The sharp sting dragged a grunt from him as he instinctively tried to shy away from Brendan's touch.

"No." Brendan said. It'll be easier if you keep still. SO shut up and help me count."

"Count?!" Walker squawked, flailing as another smack fell upon him. "Uh, two, that was two."

"Sorry, you broke my concentration, I'll have to start from the beginning," Brendan told him, not sounding very sorry at all. "Now, count- one!"

"One!" Walker groaned, wincing. The movement of Brendan's large hand on his flesh, in addition to the hard, warmth of Brendan's thighs beneath him was making it hard to concentrate.

"Two!" the men said in unison as another slap rained down on Walker. One man said the syllable in a lilting Northern Irish brogue, the other in a hissed moan, as the movement caused his cock to rub against Brendan's unyielding thigh. Walker closed his eyes, flush creeping up his face as his erection dug into the thigh supporting his weight. Even the roughness of the material wrapped around Brendan's legs and the feel of the man's thigh muscles straining underneath his weight. Brendan was deceptively strong. There was still enough sense in Walker's head to make him go along with Brendan's game, so he muttered "Three" a fraction of a second before the Irishman did. Brendan seemed pleased by his eagerness; he even gave Walker's cock a quick stroke, before resuming his discipline. Walker felt relieved that Brendan was at least willing to acknowledge his arousal, he pushed himself against Brendan's leg, the lovely friction not enough to make him come but at least helping to take the edge off a bit as "Four" rang through the air.. I t was hurting quite a bit now, the stinging sensation of Brendan's slaps, and the delicious agony of his cock grazing against Brendan's thigh, his hip. He didn't say anything but Brendan seemed to sense it, giving him a soft stroke from his nape down, down, to the base of his spine.

"Alright, Simon, we'll stop there. I think you've learnt your lesson now." Walker didn't even know what he'd done. He dazedly climbed off Brendan's lap. Brendan stood, hugging Walker from behind, his crotch rubbing wonderfully against the cleft of Walker's arse. Walker pushed back, hearing Brendan chuckle.

He let Brendan push him down until he was kneeling, the top half of his body on the sofa. Walker propped his head up on his elbows, the sofa still warm from Brendan's position on it earlier. He felt the air shift as Brendan changed positions, and then long fingers were spreading his arse cheeks, and Brendan's breath was hot on his skin. He panicked for a moment; surely Brendan wasn't going to take him dry? But then a feeling shot through him as the tip of a wet tongue touched tentatively at his entrance and he froze. "That's…disgusting, Brendan." He muttered, staring down at the seat of the couch.

Brendan ignored him, and oh! He'd never doubt the man again, because that flicker of tongue, so hot and wet inside him, stretching him, pushing itself past the puckered hole to lick and lap at him made him squirm, and beg, pushing back uselessly, now gripping the sofa.

"Need more please, Brendan, please…" He whined as Brendan pulled back, his tongue sliding out easily and all he could hear was silence for a few seconds. He didn't dare turn round, not wanting Brendan to see the wanton desperation on his face. At last he was being penetrated again but it wasn't Brendan's tongue- he was slipping as finger in and Walker almost laughed in relief because that was so good, could go so deep. Brendan added another- they were wet (must have licked them first, Walker thought) and they were able to go further than the pink, wet muscle that had pleasured him moments before. "Can I- can I j-jerk off, Brendan?" he gasped, as Brendan curled a finger inside him. He asked the man's permission as Brendan seemed to like when he did so.

"Yes." Brendan said and Walker hurried to act. The angle wasn't great but by spreading his legs wider, pressing his face against the hot, sticky leather, he was able to rut into his hand, as Brendan fingered him from behind. The Brendan was reaching a hand around to stroke him, and that was when he came, crying out Brendan's name into the leather, still pressing himself on Brendan's fingers.

He gasped again, collapsing onto the sofa with his legs spread, semen shining stickily on his stomach. He grimaced as he realised quite a bit had gone on the sofa too. And he'd just sat on it. He was distracted, however, by the bulge in Brendan's trousers.

"Do you- shall I?" he panted, brushing hair out of his eyes. Brendan just raised an eyebrow and settled himself onto the sofa besides Walker, unceremoniously wanking off without removing his trousers. Walker watched glassy-eyed at the waistband of Brendan's trousers biting into his skin as he fucked his own hand, his hands obscured by the trousers. Brendan brought himself to the peak without once taking his eyes off Walker.

"And that takes car of that." Brendan mumbled, bringing his cum-covered hands up to his face for inspection.

"Brendan…you realise you're absolutely insane?" Walker muttered, giving the man a slim smile. Brendan just grinned. "Then you must be as well."

**And they all lived slashily ever after. Now complete. Read and review?**


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